


you can't run

by FancifulRivers



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Chara what are you doing, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Nonbinary Chara (Undertale), Nonbinary Frisk (Undertale), Nonverbal Communication, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Undertale Genocide Route, Undertale No Mercy Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-05 20:05:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18835816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancifulRivers/pseuds/FancifulRivers
Summary: Chara's in control. They think.Really, it's a little hard to tell.





	you can't run

Frisk is silent again.

A brief frown twitches across your lips. They've gotten quieter and quieter, even for them. If it wasn't for the solid knot of grief in the back of your head, you would think they had found a way to evacuate their own body. It's not like they're running it anymore.

You don't know when you took over. You don't know  _why_. Frisk was afraid... 

But Frisk is always afraid. And this time, when Frisk lashed out, they weren't empty-handed. 

You wanted to throw up when you saw the dust slowly settle on the ground. They didn't. Not yet. Not until they learned what it  _meant_. Then they cried until their throat was raw and they had drawn several ragged lines across their thighs with the rough, chewed edges of their fingernails.

You had to help. They're so  _weak_. Fragile. Their soul is bright and heavy with the force of emotions, pulsing just beneath the surface. You can't relate. Your own is cracked and dusty, a bare shell of what it used to be. It fits over Frisk's like a shroud.

Perhaps that's fitting, you think, staring down at the familiar edge of the knife in your unfamiliar hand. Dust chokes the blade, hanging in the air like a cloud of pollen. No new beginnings here, though.

You trudge forward. It doesn't matter. You've gone too far to give up now. No one believes in you anymore. You ended that a long time ago, when snow still covered the ground. Your brother tentatively exhorts you around every corner, but you can see the fear hiding behind the cruel glitter of his eyes. Deep down, he always was a crybaby.

You round a corner and stop in your tracks. The Judgment Hall is a long, golden span and Sans slouches in the middle of it, blocking your way. Despite yourself, a burst of excitement wells up somewhere deep inside, a diseased trickle from a dark and musty well.

You bounce up and down on your toes as you approach, your fingers tightening around the knife handle. 

"it's a beautiful day outside," Sans says, in a conversational sort of tone, like you haven't come to him dressed in the dust of all his loved ones. It's ground into the fabric of your sweater and settled into the crown of your head. "birds are singing. flowers are blooming. on days like these, kids like you..." He pauses, and ghost blue light flickers to life in one eye socket, making you feel queasy. You tighten your stance.

"should be burning in hell," he finishes, and suddenly a volley of bones slams up from the ground. You fall back with a shout of surprise grating on unused vocal cords. Before you can orient yourself- before you can do anything more than clamber back to your feet-

You hear a high-pitched whine and empty white light obliterates you, cracking Frisk's soul in two.

 _Well, that was unexpected,_ Frisk says softly, as you fall back into being just outside the Judgment Hall. You pant for breath, scrabbling at your front (thankfully  _not_ with the hand holding the knife). Nothing but dusty fabric meets your questing fingers and you sigh, letting your head fall back against the wall with a thump.

 _He's supposed to be the weakest monster,_ you say with a frown. 1 ATK. 1 DEF. It doesn't get much weaker than that, does it? But if that's the case, then  _how_ -

 _Maybe the loss of his brother has turbo charged him_ , Frisk suggests, their thoughts flavored with self-deprecating humor. You snort.

 _He just got lucky, that's all,_ you say, striding back into the Judgment Hall.  _I'll be ready this time. He can't be harder than Undyne or Mettaton, right?_

 _Right..._ Frisk trails off uneasily.

"you look like you've had a bad time," Sans says, eye flickering blue. Your mouth falls open. That's not-

How-

 _He remembers,_ Frisk whispers. Emotions you can't begin to describe crawl down your spine. You straighten, pushing Frisk's hair off their face. It doesn't matter if he can remember or not. You'll just deal with him the same way you did the others. You have to protect Frisk. You have to-

 _Kill or be killed_ , echoes your brother's voice in your head, making you shiver.

You launch yourself at him, over the familiar volley of bones. That, at least, is the same. You've nearly reached him when you feel your soul grow heavy. He slams you up against the ceiling and you would scream if you had the breath to. Something in your back has cracked, and you're afraid to know what it is.

It's almost a relief when he lets you fall back down to the floor and fresh bones sprout through your middle. Your soul falls apart into a shower of rotting splinters and you're in the  _in between_ , as you've privately dubbed it.

 _I don't like this,_ Frisk says suddenly. Here, between, you can  _see_ them. They're just as substantial as you (or should that be the other way around?). They look up at you through a messy fringe, eyes dark with worry.  _I don't want-_

 _We can't just stop,_ you point out.  _We have to keep going._

 _I don't think I want to,_ Frisk says, wrapping their arms tighter around themself. You sigh. This isn't the first time this has happened. Although the  _first_ time, Frisk was the one counseling  _you_. You couldn't-

Well, even when you know what it all comes down to, it turns out you still can't just kill your mother.

 _Don't worry, Frisk,_ you say impatiently.  _You don't have to do anything. I'll do it. Besides..._ Just before you re-load, you turn and smile at them, your mouth stretching impossibly wide.

_Since when were you the one in control?_


End file.
